Page 28 of Black Waters

Mr. Thompson looked at me. “Since I was not sole owner of your mother, there were stipulations.”

If I weren’t so terrified of what the stipulations were, I would have attacked the bastard speaking of the loving and forgiving woman as if she were merely part of a product line.

“Babies make business partners lots of money. Babies from such a lovely woman, even more so. The agreement was that I would freely hand over any baby birthed. Since Marina became mine—and not used as planned as entertainment for clients—and my partners were unaware of this fact, when she became pregnant I knew it—him—was mine.” He pointed to Crash.

I grabbed my stomach as my mother tightened her hold on Crash and cried uncontrollably. Crash had his face in her neck, holding on as if he never wanted to let her go.

“You didn’t want your own child sold into sexual slavery,” I stated with judgment.

As if my accusations meant nothing to him, Mr. Thompson answered. “Correct. I broke the rules. I should’ve prevented conception. So even though it pissed my wife off beyond reason, we lied and said Crash was hers.” He pointed to my mom, clutching her son. “Marina was not easy to convince, but she soon understood Crash’s fate if they were to take him. To better hide the secret and be fair to Marina, she became the nanny.”

This was the final reason why my mom and dad never went to the police: her other son would have died.

The male blue eyes that had created mine bored into me. “But they eventually found out the truth and made me pay a horrendous price for the betrayal.”

I had another brother. Crash’s brother was mine too. Oh, dear God.

I bent over. “That is why your other son—my half brother was shot.”

Mr. Thompson slowly nodded, appearing to be half in the haunting memory.

My mom paled. Tears streamed down her face. “They already knew? You lied? I could’ve taken Crash with me?”

Mr. Thompson looked unaffected about being a treacherous human. “I lost one son. You think I was going to let you waltz out of here with my only seed?”

“Let me have my son!” My mother screamed in an agony that had been penned up for too many years to hold any longer.

The cause of her torture sneered. “And complicate his existence?” Mr. Thompson pointed to me.

“I’m part of that agreement?” I asked.

“Indeed you are, my son.”

“I’m not your son.”

“Tell that to the Russians, stubborn ass.”

My mother begged. “Please, Harold. I never told! I never told authorities!”

“Rock the boat, and we witness both our sons dying. Is that what you want?”

She shook her head, closing her eyes, looking ill.

He actually chuckled. “Besides, I don’t like to lose. And I lost enough letting you go. Be thankful I’m not keeping them both. I could use another peddler in that rich school.”

My mother visibly cringed at the mention of adding me to the payroll.

He coldly said, “Marina, let’s get this over with.”

My mother inhaled so deeply I was sure she was trying to inhale strength from the heavens she hoped were there, guiding her tragic life so that a happy ending could be hers someday.

Holding his face as if she adored him, my mother told Crash, “I’ve loved you every day I’ve had to live without you, sweet baby boy.” She kissed him. “And I will love you every day I must live without you.”

Crash’s face turned to horror. The one he had missed most was leaving him again with the knowledge that he had belonged with her all along. Even though he was soon to be twenty-one—far beyond the legal age to live on his own—Crash knew his fate. His father would never release him. “Please, don’t leave me.”

I was to be returned to what now looked like a heaven of sorts, but I felt like I was actually burning in a premature hell.

She kissed Crash’s forehead with the deepest affection I have ever witnessed. “I must, to save your life, my love.” One hand left his face and rested on her own chest. “Here, right here, is where you will always be.” And then… she stepped away.